Isolde
by The Hallowed Cat
Summary: True beauty is in the eye of the beholder.


It wasn't fair!   
She touched her face and glowered at the image reflected back in the mirror, she knew that she was striking, handsome from some lights but not beautiful – no never beautiful.  
  
She was too pale, too drained looking; nothing fitted her properly, she was too fat and too hulking for pretty clothing and bright colours so she slumped around the house in ill-fitting pale blue gowns worn by those who wish to hide and frumpy grey shifts that looked like sacking over her.   
  
The others where beautiful, her mother and her sister, Aislinn, commanded a room the moment they walked into it with their shining golden hair and tiny corseted waists and even the cinder-maid's grime and dust couldn't hide how she shined and smiled like she could stun the sun in the sky.   
  
Angrily she raised the brush to her thick black hair and tugged and pulled angrily, trying to straiten it out but it feel back into stubborn curls which slithered around her face and tormented her by the fact she would never look beautiful.   
Defeated she rang the little golden bell that sat on her dressing table to call the cinder-maid to come and help her.  
  
She appeared in the doorway, the light highlighting her like an angel brought to earth and infuriatingly watching the ground.  
"You where ringing Gwendolyn." she said in a voice hardly louder than a whisper and Gwendolyn glowered at the mirror because whatever she did her voice seemed to roar.  
"I need my hair brushing." she said, wincing at the sound of her own voice and the soft footfalls of the cinder maid behind her; she kept her eyes fixed firmly upon her reflection as the brush skimmed through her hair.  
She closed her eyes, once, twice and felt tears well up.  
"I'm hideous."

The brush yanked, pulling Gwendolyn back hard and a chunk of her hair came away; she turned quickly.  
"Be careful." she snarled, clenching her hands into firsts but the cinder-maid was standing, eyes wide and nostrils flaring as she breathed.  
"You are not ugly." she whispered, clenching the brush in her hand.  
"Whatever are you talking about?" Gwendolyn asked, cheeks flushing bright red in horror that she had been heard, so caught up was she in her embarrassment that the kiss caught her off guard and she struggled against the persistent caress, but the cinder-maid clung to her refusing to be put off and finally Gwendolyn collapsed into the kiss, to astonished to fight her and to delighted to consider it."Cinders…" Gwendolyn said when they broke the kiss but the cinder-maid pressed her fingers to Gwendolyn's lips and smiled softly.   
"My name is Isolde." she said as she took Gwendolyn's hands in hers and drew her from the dressing table to the bed, ignoring the other woman's uncomfortable fidgeting and pushed the simple shift away from her body, uncovering dough-white flesh which Isolde kissed reverently.   
  
Every inch of her body that Gwendolyn covered with her hands and her blushes Isolde uncovered and lavished attention on with her hands and her mouth and pressed them together, lying between Gwendolyn's legs and exploring her while Gwendolyn watched on entranced.   
  
She squirmed under the gentle touch of lips which left nothing hidden and revelled in the devotion Isolde showed for her body, and when the clever blunt fingers slipped inside her Gwendolyn near cried.   
She grasped Isolde's gaunt face between her hands and kissed her, gasping into the kiss as she came undone.   
  
Afterwards they lay together Isolde stroking Gwendolyn's hair and kissing her shoulders as Gwendolyn looked at her body, naked and covered in a fine veneer of sweat and thought for the first time that she was not ugly, not fat but perfect in her own way.  
She turned her head and kissed Isolde.  
"When my sister is queen I shall look after you." she said, smiling and Isolde nodded thoughtfully.  
"I don't doubt that."   
  
Gwendolyn sat waiting impatiently, watching her reflection in the mirror in front of her.  
Her hair, straightened by an army of serving maids lovingly framed her face; she wore expensive clothing of red and gold made for her by expert tailors who measured and preened till she was every bit as beautiful as the queen of the kingdom.   
Strong arms wound around her from behind and queen Isolde kissed her cheek, smiling at the mirror.  
"Come to bed Gwendolyn and I'll take care of you."


End file.
